Rogue Agent
by rusticsky
Summary: Steve goes back and starts a life with Peggy. But circumstances leave them stranded in the 40s and their daughter in the present. Their daughter is fifteen in 2025, a foster kid who happens to come across the Avengers. Will the family be reunited, or separated eternally?
1. Chapter One

**Just so you know, I started this a few weeks before Endgame and had to majorly rewrite the beginning intro. ****Overall, I'm really excited to see where writing this leads. Peggy and Steve is my OTP so this should have plenty of Steggy in it. Anyway, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers, or Captain America, or anything in the Marvel verse.**

"Peggy?"

_Peggy sighed, before replying, "I'm here."_

_"I'm going to need a raincheck on that dance."_

_That struck Peggy hard. She barely held back tears, managing to reply, "Alright. A week Saturday. The Stork club."_

_"Okay, you got it."_

_"Eight o'clock on the dot, if you're three minutes late I'm leaving; do you understand?" She managed to smile, but she couldn't help the tears that slowly dripped down her face._

_"I still don't know how to dance."_

_Peggy closed her eyes, "I'll show you. I'll show you everything. Just be there." Her voice was breaking, cracks inevitable. Oh Steve…_

_"Maybe the band could play something slow, I'd hate to step on your…"_

_Static._

_"No…" Peggy stared at the radio transmitter, her eyes closed. He can't be dead…_

* * *

_Five years had passed. Peggy had gone from New York to Hollywood, and back. She'd become the director of SHIELD. She'd dated around, a bit. But no man… no man would ever compare to him._

_Peggy believed that Steve was the only person for her… but he was dead. She'd have to find someone else, but no one could live up to the standards Steve had set. His sweet personality, his courage… looks helped as well, but Peggy had liked Steve more for who he was. She kept his picture on her desk at all times, the one from before the serum, when he'd just been regular old Steve Rodgers. She'd look at it from time to time, being reminded of the wartime… and Steve. The war had been horrible. But without that war, she might not have known Steve, or earned the respect of many, many American men. She'd made a name for herself around SHIELD after the war, but the war still greatly affected her life._

_But five years was a long time, and she felt as if there were a one percent chance Steve was alive. She'd moved along alright, the tough girl that she was. Howard and friends had been helpful through the first few years. And yet here she was, sitting in her office, more distressed than she'd been in years. She didn't know why she was so hurt, only that all her feelings and memories about Steve were flooding back to her._

_"Miss Carter?"_

_Peggy took a breath, picking up a folder to fake that she was being productive. "Director Carter," she corrected._

_There was a moment of silence, the man who'd just opened the door said nothing. Peggy was turned away from him, unable to identify who he was based simply on his voice. She started to turn every so slightly when the man spoke again._

_"I need to see your files on Captain Rodgers."_

_The man turned on her radio. Music filled the office. She turned all the way around, and relief spread over her. Relief, disbelief… but happiness. She was shocked, then smiled, but still confusion overtook her._

_"Steve."_

_"_Director_ Carter, I hear."_

_"You're late," she smiles, getting up from her desk chair._

_"So I'm told."_

_Peggy moved slowly towards Steve, a bit uneasy._

_"Where've you been?"_

_"Many places… I'm sorry."_

_"You should be."_

_"Peggy, I woke up seventy years after the plane crash, in the next century, and…" The two embraced, sharing a deep, passionate kiss. Peggy pulled away, still in disbelief that her long-lost love had returned to her. "What's wrong?"_

_Peggy tried to find the words. "Steve, I…"_

_"I know. It's been a long time. For both of us." Steve leaned in, and Peggy clutched onto him, digging her face into him. She moved her head so she faced the side._

_"Five years, Steve. I founded SHIELD, we defeated the Nazis, we demolished Hydra…"_

_"I know, Peggy. I read up on you."_

_She smiled, "You really did?"_

_"How could I forget about my best girl?"_

_She was flattered, a sweet smile on her face as they swayed to the music. Her eyes were closed. Peggy was lost in the music, in the warm embrace of the man she loved, reunited at last after having been separated for what felt like eternity. She'd thought Steve to be dead, five minutes ago. And hell was she wrong._

_"Steve, what happened in that plane crash?"_

_"I don't want to talk about that right now. Let's focus on now, not the past."_

_"Okay," Peggy looked down, before sighing and once more getting lost in the moment. _Captain America, why did you ever have to steal my heart? _She took a deep breath. This brief moment would forever be remembered in her mind._

_Never thought that you would be_

_standing here so close to me_

_there's so much I feel that I should say_

_but words can wait until some other day_

_Kiss me once, then kiss me twice_

_Then kiss me once again_

_It's been a long, long time_

_Haven't felt like this, my dear_

_Since I can't remember when_

_It's been a long, long time_

_You'll never know how many dreams_

_I've dreamed about you_

_Or just how empty they all seemed without you_

_So kiss me once, then kiss me twice_

_Then kiss me once again_

_It's been a long, long time_

_Ah, kiss me once, then kiss me twice_

_Then kiss me once again_

_It's been a long time_

_Haven't felt like this my dear_

_Since I can't remember when_

_It's been a long, long time_

_You'll never know how many dreams_

_I dreamed about you_

_Or just how empty they all seemed without you_

_So kiss me once then kiss me twice_

_Then kiss me once again_

_It's been a long, long time_

_Long, long time._

* * *

"I'm going to freaking kill myself if class doesn't get out soon…" I drummed my fingers against my notebook. Our teacher weaved between the desks, making sure we were all at work. I was tempted to pull out my phone, but my smarter self warned that I'd get in major trouble. Screw this, I mumbled, and pulled my phone from my backpack. I held it low, opening Instagram. I scrolled through the posts, and the next thing I knew, my teacher towered over me.

"Jo Rodgers, what do you think you're doing?" his voice was deep, his sunken-in eyes staring me down.

"I've finished my homework, Mr. Connor," I had an innocent smile on my face, "don't I deserve some free time?"

"Jo, you know the rules. Hand it over, and I'll be seeing you to the Principal's office. This is the third time, miss Rodgers, and I cannot allow it to happen again."

The normal gossipy gasps were the least of my concerns, I was furious with Mr. Connor. He let basically everyone but me go on their phone and text away. Maybe it was because I was an orphan. A lot of people didn't like me because of my lack of parents and a stable home. They thought I was weird, but I didn't think so. My friends said I was easily the most pretty girl in the school, with dark hair and curls. I did my work, and I was very good at it. But, I could never get away with anything. God knows why.

"Please don't do this, Mr. Connor, I seriously meant no harm…"

"You went on your phone."

"Yeah?"

"That is against the rules, therefore you are breaking them which is technically harm." He articulated technically, and I rolled my eyes in annoyance.

"The rules will forever be a pain in my arse, Mr. Connor."

"Duly noted, Miss Jo."

I began packing my work away, Mr. Connor watching me with my every move. I hated him, and everyone in this class. They deserved every piece of hatred they received for how rude they always were to me. I'm so done with this school, can summer come any slower? Three days. That's all I had to get through. So why the hell was Mr. Connor still caring about my phone? Although I had strong beliefs, I didn't carry through with it. He was pissed enough, and I was packed already.

I got up and out of my seat, and awaited the order to head to the office. Mr. Connor raised an eyebrow.

"Chelsea?" he looked over to the over-achieving blonde in the corner, "watch over the class while I take Jo to the Office." Chelsea grinned, and I could see the untrustworthy glimmer in her eye as she giggled to her friends. I rolled my eyes, and we walked out of the classroom, headed towards the office.

"Miss Rodgers, in trouble again?"

"No thanks to this bloke."

"Aren't you just a British ray of sunshine, Rodgers? Now, take a seat," our principal had her hands folded neatly, a clean pad of paper to her left. I swear she had OCD. "Do you find the rules important, Jo?"

"It's all relative," I shrugged, "are rules important when you're home alone?"

"Yes," the principal said, "they are. Miss Rodgers, rules are always important, no matter where you are." I leaned back in my chair.

"Are they really?"

"Yes." She was practically fuming. Mr. Connor loomed behind me. "Jo, you've broken the rules multiple times. I know this is your first year in America, but you must learn to respect us."

"I do," I quickly said, almost instinctively. "I have the highest respect for you."

"Sure you do," the principal wrote something down on her paper. "But not for the rules, nor Mr. Connor."

"Mr. Connor is the rudest, most despicable teacher at this school!" I couldn't help but burst out all of my hatred. Ms. Jackson (the Principal) deserved the truth. "He treats me like scum, and he doesn't bloody care about anyone except for his 'prodigies!'"

"Jo, please," Ms. Jackson nervously glanced at Mr. Connor. "Take a deep breath and calm down."

"I'm sorry," I crossed my arms, frowning. "I just feel like I'm not receiving the respect I deserve." Mr. Connor moved behind Ms. Jackson's desk, rolling his eyes.

"Insolent girl," he muttered.

"Jo, we've called your foster parents and they are seriously considering sending you to a different high school next year."

"Oh great, I'm going to be back into an identical pool…"

"But, we're thinking of discussing something with your foster parents. We want to propose that you move back to the UK."

"Oh." If I moved back to the UK, I'd get a different foster family. I'd have to meet new people, have a new start. That wasn't necessarily a blessing, but at least it wasn't hellsome. But it wasn't what I wanted. All I needed was a stable life that didn't change at the turn of the hour, and I'd be as happy as ever. Sometimes too much change can really hurt a person. I knew for a fact that it'd hurt me. "Don't make me go back."

"We won't make you, but we'd highly suggest it. You don't fit in here, and you know that. Do you have any friends, Miss Rodgers?"

"One or two."

"Exactly. Most students here have at least five. We are not a school for loners, Jo. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ms. Jackson," I replied, "though I would not categorize myself as a loner. I don't think being unable to find welcoming friends is a category of a loner. My lack of friends is completely involuntary."

"Are you sure they aren't being driven away?"

"I hope not."

"Jo! Oh Jo, what are we going to do with you?" one of my foster moms, Stephanie, had a teasing tone to her voice. Stephanie and Carolyn were the cutest lesbian couple in New York. They'd taken me in when my old foster parents from across the sea did not want me. I had always wanted to go to New York, and it was arranged. Stephanie and Carolyn were the most supportive foster parents I could ask for. Stephanie's sarcastic jokes yet big heart were what I needed on rainy days, and Carolyn's adventurous, experienced self helped me make difficult decisions (and solve my homework in maths).

"Stephanie, Carolyn!" Sudden relief hit me, backup and emotional support was here.

"Geez Rodgers, stop making us come here." Carolyn had a headband over her dark hair, which was cut short in a trendy way with stubby curls. She and Stephanie were both in their early thirties and were easily more fashionable than the American idiots at my school. Stephanie wore a dramatically brimmed sunhat, and a sundress.

"Thank you for joining us, ladies," Ms. Jackson frowned, "we need to discuss Jo's behavior. I'd like you to know, she's kind to many folk at this school, but has no respect for her teachers. She also has received Honor Roll all three quarters previous to this. But looking at her grades, I'm sure she will." Carolyn had a grin. "But that is not first priority for today's discussion."

I rustled in my seat.

"Jo has her reasons," was what Stephanie replied with. I was thankful to have such good support. "She is far more civilized than any of the other freshman hooligans."

"Yet she can't seem to follow the rules, it's a pity." Mr. Connor fixed his glasses. "I suggest she goes to boarding school in Britain, back where she belongs."

"Ralph, that's a bit extreme," Ms. Jackson seemed shocked. "We were just going to suggest that she transfer to another high school next year."

"Well, we wouldn't ever make Jo go back to Britain if she didn't want to," Carolyn seemed concerned, leaning forward in her chair. "She's moved around enough."

"Then we at least suggest transferring her to a private school," Ms. Jackson seemed to not budge on this idea. Damn.

"I'm doing fine here," I argued. I wasn't picky. I didn't need five million friends. I needed a good education, at least one or two friends, and a goal for myself. This school provided all of that for me.

"Jo, your grades aren't always the most important thing," Stephanie argued, in obvious favor of the Principal's proposal. Funny how opinions can change so drastically in a short time.

"I like this school, I like my friends, and I just don't want things to change," I said every word strongly, until the end when my voice faltered. Stephanie's gaze softened, the side of her lips curved in empathy.

"Are you really so sure, Jo?"

"Yes." That was all I needed to say. Stephanie and Carolyn checked me out of school, and we drove home in their car, no one saying a word. My phone was tucked away in my backpack, my eyes looking out the window at the city. I hated getting in trouble.

I'd never been a troublesome child. In fact, I was a sucker for the rules. Until I was shipped over to the US, and had to face the inevitable- public American High School.

The rules were very flexible in every class but Mr. Connor's. I swore that he hated me from day one. He always saw me as a stuck up Brit who thought she was too good for the Americans. But I was jealous of the Americans, most of which had stable homes. I constantly lived with different people, in different houses, in different neighborhoods, in different cities, even in a different country. I guessed not many of them had to go through that.

So each trimester, Mr. Connor would confiscate my phone once. And that was the third strike. In most cases, three strikes, you're out. That's what the Principal had come to do, she was tired of Mr. Connor sending me up.

The New York streets were-

BANG!

Red hair. And a red leather suit. It didn't take me long to recognize her. It was Scarlet Witch. And Carolyn had driven us right into a battle between the Avengers and who knows what.


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter two is finally here! Expect some language in this one. It isn't exactly PG anymore. Endgame spoilers, again, from here on out. I hope you enjoy and please review! I haven't taken too much time to edit this so please let me know of any errors!**

**IF YOU HAVEN'T REREAD CHAPTER ONE AFTER IT WAS UPDATED FOR ENDGAME, PLEASE DO NOW!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Captain America or Agent Carter, unfortunately, nor any of the events that took place during the Marvel movies.**

"Holy shi-"

My heartbeat quickened in only a matter of seconds. The Scarlet Witch's eyes were focused on whatever was attacking, only resting a moment on our car before leaping off. She made eye-contact with me, a moment that was absolutely astonishing. She hurried to the driver's window, before knocking on it for Carolyn to open. As soon as there was a crack, she was talking.

"I need you to stay in your car, no matter what. We're trying to drive them into the water, but…" Scarlet Witch's head swiveled, checking to make sure they weren't near, before turning back. "We might need some civilian heroes." She sprinted away from our car.

"Oh my god… that was… oh my god…" Stephanie had gone into shock. Carolyn managed to stay calm and civil, but I could tell she was a bit overwhelmed.

"Scarlet Witch, yeah…" Carolyn mumbled. Something shot up from the ground, holding a hammer. A man in a red and blue suit was swinging from building to building, using ropes that shot from his hand. A man soared above in a robotic suit. These were the Avengers, an organization I'd only heard of on the news. War Machine, Spiderman, Scarlet Witch, the Hulk, and Hawkeye. They'd been the biggest thing in both the UK and United States since… 2012 for some reason. This was amazing.

And then I saw what they were fighting. Men in Black. Well, not the movies series. These were heavily armed men in military garb who were shooting the hell at the buildings and people. They kept their distance from the Avengers, and none of them were near our car. Thank Goodness. I was a bit exhilarated by it all. I saw a car, at maximum speed, flying towards a group of terrified kids, only about 30 feet away. There was nothing I could do. "_We might need some civilian heroes…" _Why had Scarlet Witch said that? She had to have known that we had no weapons. It struck me like lightning.

A small pistol was sitting on the sidewalk… what the frick… I swung open my car door. Carolyn screamed at me, cuss words galore. I snatched up the gun. I fiddled with the trigger, a brief attempt to learn how to shoot. _Here goes nothing. _I pointed the gun at the car, and pulled the trigger.

I hit the windshield. I missed, but the driver was now clearly able to tell that someone was onto him. Another shot. And another. One more shot…

I hit him flat in the head. The car swerved, away from the helpless children, smashing into a building.

I'd actually done something helpful. Don't mind the damage.

I quickly opened Carolyn's car's door, hopping inside. I held the gun on my lap. It was old, clearly more than a decade's worth of use came out of it. Engraved in the metal were two letters. P.C. I ran my fingers over that part of the metal. It was quite smooth, although I expected it to be crude. Carolyn was mouthing off to me, I didn't really care. I was so entranced by this antique pistol and the fact that I'd saved lives. Well, I did kill someone, but he was bad. Not the best excuse for murder, I suppose. But lives were saved by me. And that was, indeed, the most pleasant feeling one can ever muster.

Yet the guilt flooded me. _He was trying to kill innocents,_ I reminded myself. But he, or she, was a person. And murderous tendencies… they didn't change that. It wasn't long when Scarlet Witch once more approached the car, knocking on my window.

"You're Jo Rodgers, aren't you?"

I took a short breath, hesitantly replying, "yes, why?" I said why briefly, and without the flair in the voice which makes a word a question. How could the Scarlet Witch herself know my name?

Scarlet Witch turned, quickly checking something, before saying, "I know your dad."

I couldn't believe it.

"My dad's dead."

"He is now, but he wasn't before-" What could she mean by that? She paused, her head swiveling around, "I'll be right back." Scarlet Witch was quick to sprint away. I hated the intensity of the situation. Scarlet Witch was about to tell me perhaps the most important thing in my life. I hated waiting. I hated the uncertainty of not knowing the truth; how my parents died. I hated having the answers presented to you and only having them sprint away.

"Jo, I have to call the police," Carolyn's voice was hesitant. "You killed a man."

I looked up at her, a frown on my face. "And?"

"And… what do you mean, and? That's murder!" Stephanie remained quiet, leaving the scolding to Carolyn.

"He was going to kill innocents, would you rather I let him do that?"

"I'd rather you not be guilty!"

There was a moment of silence. I spotted the redhead assassin and turned, not wanting to continue this argument with Carolyn. Scarlet Witch was not at all out of breath, in fact quite calm considering the situation.

"Right, Jo, I need you to come with me. We have the attack under control. I just need to take you back to Avengers Headquarters so you know what the hell's happening."

I slipped the pistol into my backpack from school.

I opened the car door without hesitation. "Carolyn and Stephanie, I'll call you. But I'm so close to the answer and I need to hear it." I left them with that, shutting my car door and following Scarlet Witch, the Avenger.

"My name is Wanda Maximoff, I work for SHIELD and the Avengers."

"I… I got the Avengers part," I replied, keeping up with Wanda's pace easily.

"I don't want to be the one to spill the news to you, there are others who were much closer to your father…" Wanda took a breath, "and your mother. I never met your mother."

"So they're dead."

"Not exactly. Let's get on the subway."

And so, we paid for tickets and miraculously rode the still in service subway. I took a seat next to Wanda, thankful the subway car was mainly empty. There was a man in the row of seats across from us, dressed in business wear, texting on his phone. I never really liked the subway, for many reasons. It was a bit thrilling, but the constant on-and-off feel to it was not my cup of tea.

The man looked up at us, a bit judging by the look of it. He got off within a few minutes.

"We need to stay on the subway for awhile. It's a secret station," Wanda explained. I raised an eyebrow, a bit impressed. A secret station… we must be going to the Avengers headquarters. Newly redone, of course. Most people knew about the Attack on the Avengers Headquarters right after it happened, but a day later I found that I was the only person that still remembered. Heck, I was the only person that knew it existed after it, I felt. Even though I hadn't been in New York for too long, I'd heard the news from London.

"I've never actually seen it," I said, my voice awfully loud in the almost empty car.

"Its beautiful."

"Wanda, why do you think the subway's empty?"

"The battle above has people distracted. You do ask a lot of questions."

"Yes, sorry."

We rode for a few more minutes, the subway train overall empty which was extremely strange. We were the only people on the entire train, when does that ever happen in NYC?

"We're here," Wanda got up and out of the train. I quickly followed (not wanting to get stuck on the fast-moving transport). To the normal eye, it was any normal station. But I noticed a metal door with Authorized Personnel only on it. "Through here." I was like a puppy dog following its owner, stopping and staring at everything along the route. An Identification system guarded the door, a hand scanner. Bit more sophisticated than a fingerprint identicator, but I'm sure even this could be cracked. The lights came on in the room upon entry. I sighed.

"Another subway?"

"Not my design, mind you," Wanda laughed, "blame Stark."

"Tony Stark?" We'd all heard that the billionaire had died. He was one of the most renowned inventors around the world. He died in the battle at the Avengers Headquarters, as news reported, but later covered up once everyone forgot about it. I'd often wondered why I didn't. Well, some questions must go unanswered.

The train pulled into the station. "This is only a minute ride, Jo. I promise."

Wanda was right. The train went above ground, which scared me a little, but the view of the Hudson was completely worth it. Fresh, healthy grass surrounded the grounds. The building itself was sleek and stylish. I don't know how you could miss it, but maybe from far away it was cloaked.

"Before we go inside, I think I should be letting you know that our agents are fetching your other things from your foster parents house. We've been keeping an eye on you for quite some time now. We will also let them know that you will not be returning."

"But Caroline and Stephanie-"

"I'm sorry, Jo. I can promise you, we're doing something for you and sending you somewhere you'll be much happier than with them." I rolled my eyes and made a mental note to oblige, not wanting to anger the much-more powerful woman. Although she seemed pretty nice, I didn't want any of the Avengers to get mad at me, especially not Hulk. That could get ugly.

The train pulled into station. We exited the train car, and I was a bit in awe of the beautifully modern architecture. The wide, clean sidewalk was barely raised from the grass, giving a nice aesthetic. There weren't really any plants besides the grass, maybe a few trees scattered in the shadier parts but none blocking the ocean. The building itself was of cement, a crisp edge at every corner. To be honest, it was a stylish building that I could definitely see the Avengers working in.

But that was unimportant- I didn't get too much time to admire the setting because Wanda dragged me into the building. A few people sat outside at picnic tables, chatting. They saw Wanda and I. They all appeared to be human. A blonde with wavy, short hair raised an eyebrow.

"Is that Rodgers?"

"Carol, why weren't you in the city? We could've used your help."

Carol (the blonde) shrugged, "I just got here. Didn't know there was a battle going on."

Wanda simply rolled her eyes at that. We went inside- I wasn't exactly introduced to that woman but she seemed to have some spunk based on that brief encounter. I'd have to ask who she was later. Inside, everything was technological. It was quite cool, cement walls that were practically bleached white. There was a random platform- I didn't quite understand what it was but it looked important. We took an elevator (that was very fast) up to the third floor and got off it.

I could see why they called it a Headquarters.

I was super impressed by it all. The screens were like holograms, blue in coloring. The news was up on one, saying that today's battle had been won by the Avengers. Wanda smiled at that. We moved into a large room with a conference table.

"The rest of them will be here in a few minutes, have a seat," Wanda said, taking a seat herself. I sat down next to her- she was friendly enough, even if she was a bit introverted.

Minutes later; the Avengers piled into the room, still in uniform. It was quite a bit intimidating to be in a room with such amazing people. Carol from outside, Falcon, the Winter Soldier, Hawkeye, the Hulk, a man in a red cape, Antman, and the Spiderman. The Winter Soldier seemed to be in charge, taking a seat at the head of the table.

"Wanda, who is this?"

"Rodgers," Wanda spoke, almost a whisper.

The Winter Soldier's face went white. "Rodgers, Jo Rodgers? Steve's kid?" Wanda gave a slight nod. Steve, that was my father's name. Steve Rodgers. Where did I recognize that name from…?

"Bucky Barnes," the man offered his hand for me to shake. "I was your dad's best friend."

"Nice to meet you," I replied, offering a polite smile. _This is awkward, _I thought to myself, but hid it with a subtle, if not uncomfortable, smile. "Mr. Barnes, I hate to tell you but I've never met my father."

"He was a good man, Jo."

I smiled, sitting back and regaining my posture. "Unfortunately, I'll never get to meet him." My smile faded. The table didn't say a word; the silence was an obvious tribute to my father.

"God rest his soul," Bucky's voice was soft, sadness radiating off him.

"How did he die?" I asked out of nowhere.

"He-" Falcon began to say, before shutting his mouth.

"He what?"

"He died, Jo. He died of old age two months ago," Wanda, this time.

"Old age?"

"You deserve an explanation, and I'm the only one who can give it," Bucky spoke, sighing after the fact. "Steve Rodgers and I were both born in the 1920s."

"The 1920s," I had to say it again, in order to believe it.

"Yes. Born in the 1920s, we were at the perfect age to enlist in the army for World War II, to serve our country. But the thing you have to know about Steve- he wasn't at all athletic. He kept trying to enlist and was turned away wherever he went. He was the little guy, and that was okay. Because that little guy had heart- and was more clever than you can imagine. Finally, he was accepted, and was part of a secret project to make him into a Super Soldier. That's how he met your mom."

"My mother?"

"Peggy Carter, a bit younger than Steve, from England like you. She was a tough cookie, was one of the general's favorites. She wasn't a soldier, whipped those new recruits into shape though. She and Steve fell in love during wartime, their story is one I'll leave for them to tell."

"For them to tell?"

"Peggy and Steve were separated, though. A plane crash left Steve missing for seventy years. Peggy was near 70 when they found him."

"Dead."

"No, not dead. Frozen. They defrosted him, and discovered Captain America."

"My father is Captain... America?"

"Yes. The super-boy himself. He was a major factor in so many wars- but specifically the battle with Thanos."

"Where Avengers Headquarters were destroyed."

"Yes, wait, how did you know?"

I didn't answer.

"Anyway, Steve time-traveled to put some things back in their proper-timelines, and finally went back to his beloved Peggy."

"So how do I come into the story?"

"A few months after Steve returned, he and Peggy were married, and she got pregnant. When you were born, someone stole you out of time and took you to Avengers Headquarters in 2010." My eyes were wide. "They had to do whatever they could to hide you from Steve… you were left with a note. There you were shipped off to England to avoid suspicion." My eyes were filled with tears. "Jo, I…"

"I can't… I…"

"It's a lot to take in, we know…"

Everyone was trying to comfort me. So many voices, only one thing on my mind. I couldn't focus. My brain was overwhelmed, perhaps going insane. I'd just learned my story, why I was an orphan. It just didn't settle right.

But that's who I was.

I was Jo Rodgers, daughter of Steve and Peggy Rodgers. And who the hell cared if was British, or, or…

Damn, I should really give a shit. I'm out of my proper time.

And that could mean chaos for me.


	3. Chapter Three

**I finally took the time to finish this next chapter. Guess what, it's almost 3000 words! Anyway, I'm going to start planning for the rest of my fic now. Sorry this took over a month to get uploaded! I've been busy.**

"So you love period pieces?" Wanda laughed, "I wouldn't expect that of a teenager."

"Absolutely- whether it be Jane Austen or a World War II drama." I was enthusiastic about my period dramas, most everyone knew that. I suppose that's what happens when you're from England.

"You're quite odd," she laughs uncomfortably, working on sorting through some papers.

"Wanda, they never answered my question… how long till I can go back in time?"

"They need you to study the period a bit."

"Period dramas!"

"No, using books."

"That's awfully annoying," I pouted.

"But they'll also slowly take away things from this era, starting with your phone. You're going to have to call and say your goodbyes."

"That's going to be awfully harsh."

"Indeed. We'll give you period style clothes to change into once you get there, tell you the do's and don'ts, among other things. It'll take a month max."

"Dear God!" I snap.

"For example, that may not pass."

"Oh, what do you know about the fifties?" I rolled my eyes.

Wanda didn't bother to fight, changing the subject. "Go talk to Bucky, he has something for you to see."

I'd been at the Headquarters for a day. During this period of time, we'd discussed the mechanics of time travel (they tried to explain, I understood nothing), and eaten a very awkward dinner. The worst part was when Bucky began talking like a grandad, talking about Steve and the 1940s. He went on and on about how they were best friends. He talked a bit about Peggy too, but said that he didn't know her too well and that's why he didn't have more to say. I wasn't NOT looking forward to talking with Bucky, though. I liked him, even if he did talk like a grandad, so finding him outside at picnic tables with an envelope waiting for me was not at all awkward.

"Mr. Barnes, Wanda said you had something to give me?"

"Yeah, from Steve. He gave it to me. Said that I'd find a use for it at some point… so I wanted to give it to you." I took a seat at the table across from him. He handed me the envelope. "Open it."

Inside the envelope was a worn piece of paper. Written on it was the name of a hospital. It was clearly a birth certificate. Josephine Ann Rogers- that was my name. Born on April 15th, 1952. So that meant… that meant that chronologically, I was 73 years old. What a load of shit that was! Born to Margaret Carter and Steve Rogers, in New York.

"It isn't much, but… but you know your birthday, Jo. I think Steve would've wanted that."

"Thank you." I put down the paper. "I'm awfully nervous to go back…"

"Don't be. They're great people."

I smiled, "I'll take your word for it, Mr. Barnes."

* * *

Period training, as Bruce called it, was the Avengers assembling and watching Grease, Gidget, and Back to the Future. It wasn't at all serious, in anyone's mind. Especially Carol, who brought popcorn for us all. We laughed our way through the movies, but were reminded that this was serious once they were over.

"I thought I was supposed to learn something…" I muttered, which caused Carol to laugh a lot.

"You did. You learned not to forget plutonium when going back to the future."

"Carol, your jokes are bad," there's a new voice, one I don't recognize. An intimidating man with an eyepatch walks in, holding an orange cat. He was intimidating, at least until I saw the cat, which quickly jumped out of his arms and went to Carol.

"Fury, how dare you insult my Back to the Future jokes!" Carol laughed. "Welcome back, chief. Jo Rogers, meet Nick Fury."

"You're Carter's daughter, aren't you?" the intimidating man shook my hand. "I had the honor of working under her. You'll love her when you meet her, Jo."

"I'm sure of it," I smiled, not knowing how else to react. I still wasn't used to everyone saying, 'Oh, your dad Steve was a great dude,' or, 'I know your mom's grandniece.' It didn't seem possible- previously I thought that my parents were nobodies, but now to be told that they both have saved the country many, many times, and that my father is a symbol of freedom in the nation? It felt so… so weird. But at the same time, it was truly right.

"In the meantime, want some popcorn?" Carol offered to Fury.

"No, I've come to bring something that Rogers here needs to bring to her dad. Here," he reaches in his pocket, "it's a picture of Peggy Carter. Found it in the files on her. Thought Steve would like it. It's from when she first applied for a job as a code breaker in the 40s." It was a headshot of a beautiful young woman with dark brown hair in neat, 1940s style curls. Her hair was much like mine, except far more polished. She looked a bit like me too.

"This is my mum?" My voice was soft. Nick nodded.

"She was a stronger leader than even Tony Stark. Once she became director of SHIELD, she had everyone's respect. I gotta say, Rogers, you look a lot like her."

"Thanks," I smiled. "But I think we have some more important things to handle, right?"

"Right," Fury sighed. "For example, figuring out how to get luggage to travel through time."

"Steve was able to get a big ass shield through time," Bucky laughed as he said it, though there's a bit of pain on his face. "Why would Jo have any problem getting some luggage?"

"It's risky…" Bruce fixed his glasses. "It wouldn't be guaranteed that the luggage would follow her through. Unless she holds onto it all the way… maybe it'd be forced to come."

"You're quite the genius…" sighed Bucky.

"Only a week more, Jo, if that's any comfort, with these crazy people." Fury seemed serious as he said it, though the room laughed.

"Thank goodness," I rolled my eyes and smiled as I said it, the joke was clearly there.

The Avengers meeting was soon over, and I was left on my own to do as I liked. I chose to watch some classic movies that wouldn't come out till the sixties if I was in the forties. Funny Girl and West Side Story were to take up six hours of my time, but I was okay with that. Much of the week went by quickly. Other times, it felt like I would never see the day when I'd travel through time. The Thursday before, specifically, was terrible.

"Jo, there's going to be a big Avengers basketball game and we were wondering if you wanted to come." I was sitting on my bed, reading a book in the early morning, when Wanda entered. I looked up at her, before yawning. "We're going to have it at eight, by the way. So you can wake up a bit more." I smiled, excitedly. The fact that I wasn't a fan of basketball didn't matter.

"I'm coming."

The game itself was chaotic. Thor, Sam, Wanda, Mr. Rhodes (better known as War Machine) and Peter Parker formed one team, while Bruce, Carol, Scott, Bucky, Clint and Strange formed the other. I was on Thor's team, and everyone decided that I was going to be the one who sat on the bench the whole time. I was absolutely terrible.

The rules of the game were as follows. No Avenger was allowed to use any skill that was related to their powers (which some of the Avengers found awfully difficult, especially when Bruce tried to keep his temper). The regular rules of basketball were required as well. They had me keep score, in the end. I only played once, and the other team ended up shooting when I tried to stop them from doing so. So we all decided that I just wasn't meant to play basketball. Period, end of story.

But I had fun, keeping score for them. It was fun to root for my team. The only problem was that our team had little height. Thor was the only one above 5'10." The other team had similar heights, but it wasn't that that let them win. It was the sheer fact that the other team was more spirited that helped them win.

Wanda, after the basketball game, let me try lacrosse. And turns out that I had a natural talent for the sport. Running down the field, attacking the other Avengers with a stick when needed was absolutely fun.

I'm leaving tomorrow…

I wasn't able to think those words, before that Thursday. Maybe when I had to move to the USA, but nothing quite like this. Those words meant so much more this time round. I was going to see a familiar place in a new time.

The early fifties were a little intimidating. I was aware of that. People weren't going to act the same as they act nowadays. Cell phones weren't going to have been invented. Hell, I was going to witness some of the best songs of all time being released for the first time ever. Johnny B Goode, all of Elvis' and the Beatles' music, motown eventually… But I was scared. Scared that time travel wasn't going to work, more scared about meeting my actual parents. I had to remind myself that that was a good thing over and over again.

Soon came Friday morning. I did the final packing, final listens to music, and final contacts with people I know. Stephanie and Caroline were absolutely confused, and Caroline was pissed, but we finally said goodbye. That was awkward. We hadn't known each other for long and I lost it on them. But that didn't matter anymore. Where I was going, neither Caroline or Stephanie would even have been born.

It was around ten in the morning when I had everything packed up in one suitcase. I packed a few modern books that I thought I'd miss- Harry Potter, the Hunger Games, and Twilight were just a few. And trust me, I was bringing the WHOLE series, I had no time for cliffhangers. I packed some modern bras and underwear, I wasn't risking that. I brought minimal clothes- some workout clothes, a few sweatshirts, but nothing overly important.

I began walking to the time machine, thoughts whirling through my head. They wouldn't stop- theories about what might happen should the time traveling go good or bad. If I was to successfully go back in time, would Steve and Peggy accept me, or throw me out? If I wasn't to successfully go back in time, and something were to go wrong, what would happen to me? Would I be stuck in the time void? Or would I be thrown into a new time, one that I was in no way familiar with? All these thoughts consumed me, and I began to grow more nervous than excited. I'd need some serious pep talks from Carol beforehand.

And there it was, the time machine. There was a white suit laying out, and Scott was tossing a baseball nearby. All the other Avengers were at another table, having Dunkin' Donuts. I sat down, next to Carol. I really liked Carol, she was so fun to be around. Carol passed me a cup of coffee and a donut.

"One last meal in the 21st century, we're sure it'll be of great quality," Carol grinned, before looking back over at Nick Fury.

"I just don't see how she's going to carry the luggage!" Fury shrugged, genuinely looking confused.

"Nick, we're going to use my pym discs! They're easy to use. I can teach her," Scott said loudly, leaning against the cement wall.

"And is the luggage going to fit in the suit?" Fury added, giving Scott the classic Fury-disbelief look.

"I can answer that," Bruce spoke up, "there's a little pocket in the suit, near where the Pym Particles go. Jo, would you be alright if we shrunk down your luggage now?" Finally, someone besides Carol noticed I was there.

"Sure," I shrugged. Scott came over to me, holding a baseball. He put it on the ground, and reached in his pocket to grab a pym disc.

"Jo, here's how this works. Red means small, blue means big. Kay, so we're going to use this red disc on the baseball. I want you to throw the disc at the baseball. Don't miss."

I nodded, taking the disc from him. I threw it like a frisbee, hitting the baseball dead on and causing it to shrink. Scott's face lit up, and he gave me a high five.

"You're better than me!"

I laughed, and did the same thing to my luggage. It grew tiny enough to fit in my hand, and I put it down on the table.

"I should have reminded you- goddamnit! No liquids," Scott said, saluting. Everyone laughed at his joke.

"Well, Jo, finish up eating, then get dressed. It's going to be a long day, but the good news is that you're going to the sexist 1950s!" Carol sarcastically said to me. I rolled my eyes. I didn't need more reminders. As I ate, the adults around me all talked about their old memories with Steve. He seemed like a really good guy. It was all started by Bucky, who was sharing a story that Steve happened to be in. The others got dragged into it, I guess. I smiled at them, of course. I didn't want to seem awkward.

I was zoned out. Lost in thought by the end of their conversation. I finished up my food, and went into the bathroom to put the suit on over my clothes. The suit was pretty uncomfortable, even though it fit well. I stuck my luggage in one pocket, and put the Pym discs in another. I came out, looking very out of place.

The team was near the time machine. Bruce was working on the mechanics, with the others just talking in the background, seemingly unconcerned. I still hadn't wrapped my mind around time travel. The whole subject was perplexing. I'd watched Doctor Who. I knew that time is a big ball of timey wimey stuff. But to actually know that I was definitely going to travel through time, in a tested, effective way- I could barely fathom it.

"I'm ready," I said to Bruce, a little unsure. Bruce raised an eyebrow.

"You are? I thought you never would be."

"So did I," I laughed. Bruce laughed, and told me to go stand in the middle of the platform. He instructed me to press a button when I was ready.

"Tell Steve that we say hi," Bruce saluted to me.

"Oh, hey, would you mind giving this to him?" Bucky handed me a folded up paper. "It's for him and Peggy." I smiled, tucking it away into the little pocket in the uniform. "We wish you the best'a luck, kid."

"Press it when you're ready."

The rest was a blur. I slammed my fingers down on the button. I can't exactly describe what it was like to travel through time. It was such a strange sensation, one I knew I'd never experience again.

I had to blink a few times. It was sunny, light leaking into the house where I stood. It was really cozy, a radio played some music that vaguely reminded me of some classic fifties music. I was shocked, breathing heavily- but I smiled. How I smiled! I was so happy- it worked. It worked. I kept telling myself that over and over, filled with joy. I fixed my hair, which got a little frazzled seeing that I traveled through time. "I did it!" I squealed.

I turned to see a couch, which sat a couple. A woman with fierce red lipstick, brown hair in neat curls that went just past her shoulders. She had striking dark brown eyes. Overall, she was gorgeous. And cuddled up next to the woman was an athletic, handsome blonde man. He had a very friendly face, though it looked awfully terrified. He had blue eyes, though they weren't his prime feature. But there was no doubt that this was Captain America.

I stared at them for a moment, observing all their features as well as I could, before sighing, relieved, "I'm home."


	4. Chapter Four

**I'm so sorry there's been such a break in between chapters, but I've finally picked up this story again! Jo's character should be much more on point thanks to the break I've taken. It's helped me, honestly. The plot is going to pick up after this chapter, this is just introducing her to the forties. ****Please review once your done reading!**

I didn't… I couldn't- how was I to react? My parents sat before me- my real parents. They looked at me, utterly confused, and wondering how I appeared in their living room. I almost started to cry, reality hitting me.

"It's me," I smiled, breathing through my mouth (more like panting, I was a bit stressed). "I've come home, Mum, Dad."

The woman- Peggy Carter, my mother- opened her mouth for a few seconds, before speaking softly, "Josephine?"

"That's my name," I offered an awkward smile. "I… came here from 2025."

I could see something ticked on the man's face. My dad's face.

"2025…?" Steve's voice displayed utter confusion.

Peggy turned her face, before whispering something to him. He whispered back.

"It's 1953. Our daughter Josephine would only be a year old. And time travel isn't possible."

"Yes it is, and you can't deny it. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here, Captain."

Steve raised an eyebrow, "so you are from the future?"

"Yeah."

"Doesn't mean you're our daughter," Peggy replied, clearly with Steve on this one. I sighed, a little disappointed. Had I expected to be welcomed in with open arms? A little. I hadn't known who I was dealing with.

"Can you… give me a moment to explain?"

Steve looked at Peggy, who sighed, "well, alright."

"Thank you…" I looked down at my feet, unsure of how to continue. And then I just… talked. Like it was a perfectly normal story. "I grew up an orphan. I've seen many foster homes all around England. And then, about a year after the blip, which I thankfully wasn't affected by, I moved to New York. And during a skirmish between the Avengers and some… people, Wanda Maximoff found me and took me to the Avengers Headquarters, where Mr. Barnes told me-"

"Barnes?" Steve hadn't interrupted yet. Peggy looked over at Steve, a little concerned.

"Bucky Barnes. He said that, that you and he were friends."

"Continue," Steve looked a little tense.

"He told me that I'd been displaced in time. And then with the help of Mr. Banner, I traveled through time. I still have a few extra Pym particles and I'm wearing a suit, so if you want me to go back to the 21st century I can."

"Why would we ever want you to do that?" Peggy sighed, before motioning for me to join them on the couch. I smiled a little, glad to be accepted. At least, a little accepted.

"Good," I sighed, relieved. "Is there… is there anything I need to know about… you two?"

"Well," Peggy looked over at Steve. "I'm the Director of an organization called SHIELD, and your father is hunkered down thanks to the situation which I assume you know?"

"Right, yes."

"The point is that I have a very busy lifestyle, whereas Steve is around often. I may be gone for long periods on business-" A phone rang, an old fashioned sound which I'd only heard in films.

Peggy sighed. "I need to take this call."

"Okay," I said softly, looking over at Steve. He was looking down at his hands.

"I need to go to the office? Edwin, this is not a good time- what do you mean, it's important? Okay, well, can I at least have dinner? There's something I need to tell you- Jarvis, please, dinner. I'm Howard's boss which means I'm yours. Alright, thank you. Goodbye Edwin," Peggy put down the phone.

Peggy looked at me, putting aside the conversation she'd just had on the phone. "Steve has steaks on the barbeque, but there's only two so that could be an issue."

"Oh that's alright, I just had breakfast."

Steve got up, laughing, "Did Scott treat you to his breakfast burritos?"

"I didn't know he made burritos-"

"Oh shit, I spilled his secret," Steve rolled his eyes. "An inside joke, I wouldn't expect you to get it."

"Okay…" I looked down, smiling, before saying quietly, "now I _want _to get the joke."

"Long story," he laughed.

"Well, I'm not too well adapted to New York, not at present or in the future, so bear with me if I make myself an idiot," I decided to add this in, knowing that I might receive unfair judgment if I did not.

"It's alright, Josephine. Do you think either of us cares? I was born and raised in Hamstead," Peggy offered a warm smile. "We're with you one hundred percent, dear."

That was reassuring. I'd never had a mother in my life. Sure, there'd be the occasional caretaker, but there was no Peggy Carter. Something constantly there to help me grow. Something there to support or criticize me. I needed a Peggy Carter.

I smiled, "Thank you so much. Really."

We sat down to dinner for the first time as a family. I was on my best behavior, talking to each adult with as much respect as possible. They spoke little about themselves and aimed the conversation towards me. I didn't like to be interrogated- I just wasn't comfortable with it- but I acted as if I received these questions every day. They seemed to enjoy me. Even if they had to, they were so real.

Neither seemed to be hiding or telling any lies or secrets. Countless foster parents had told me things that I later found incorrect. I'd moved around so much that I stopped trusting people for a good time. There was no real consistency. I rebounded to literature, for a time.

I found Jo March to be the most relatable character in all of literature. No tolerance for romance until she was lonely. No care for appearance until it hurt her. A desperate desire to escape reality at present. I didn't have siblings- she had three- but it helped to have someone who I understood.

Escaping into the March family's affairs was the best treatment for my feelings of loneliness and stress. I could laugh at Amy's limes, cry over the misfortunes of Beth, and have my heart broken into a million pieces when Laurie and Amy shared their predicament with Jo. And now here I was, finally doing what I'd always envied of Jo, sharing my thoughts with my real family. It felt so comfortable, so natural after a while, yet unreal.

Peggy put down her fork. "It's time for me to get to the office. Josephine, if you'd like to come with me, I can have Jarvis show you around, but I need to deal with a massive prison break."

My face lit up, "Of course, I would love to come." The bit about a prison break didn't at all phase me. It probably should've been the most important part of the sentence, but I was all too excited to discover everything there was to know about my parents.

I had nothing of my own of the period to wear, so Peggy let me borrow a dress of hers that was on the small side. We were the same height, but Peggy was a bit more muscular and much bustier than I. The dress was an awkward fit, so I found a jacket to wear over it. I wasn't too fond of my appearance, but what the hell? Would Jo March care? No, no she wouldn't. If she wouldn't care, why should I?

I walked out of my parent's bedroom and Steve looked like he was trying hard not to laugh. Peggy looked happy, though I could tell she was displeased with the size. I didn't pout, I acted not at all embarrassed.

* * *

Peggy's car was extremely different from any car I'd ridden in. It was much more rugged when it drove, and the lack of seatbelts was stressful. Yet Peggy drove with a sort of pride that might be expected of a woman with such authority. She turned on the radio to a station that played jazz and hummed along to the song which was playing. I'd never heard it before, but I loved everything about it.

We drove into the city, and she stopped at a telephone agency after about an hour of driving. I followed her inside, but once inside all eyes seemed to be on me. A middle-aged woman with red hair and wide glasses asked Peggy who I was, and Peggy simply replied that I was her niece. I was waved through without any further questions. We then entered an office.

This didn't look like any big spy agency, but then again I was aware that SHIELD had just been formed. Everyone's eyes were on me, and I didn't know that I liked the attention. But I wore a smile, practically attached at the hip to Peggy. Rule number one of uncomfortable situations? Look like you belong.

A relatively short man approached us, only a few inches taller than I and close to the same height as Peggy (who wore heels). He reminded me of Clark Gable in every way.

"Hey Peggy, who's the kid?" he gave a devilish grin.

"Don't even think it, Howard. This is Josephine and she's my daughter."

Howard looked shocked as hell. "What the fuck, Pegs?"

I couldn't help but laugh.

"Josephine was trapped in the future. She used the same technology…" she looked around, "_he_ used to get back to us." Peggy was still calling me Josephine. It was so much more formal than I was used to, but I did not comment.

Howard frowned and put his hand on his hips. "Really?" He smiled. "Then it's nice to meet you, Josephine. I'm Howard Stark."

So this man was Tony Stark's father. I smiled and shook his hand, "It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Stark." He looked a bit confused but also extremely happy with that statement.

"Howard, where's Edwin? I'd like to have him show her around so she isn't a distraction."

"He's on a break right now."

Peggy frowned, and we walked through the office a bit before stumbling on what I assumed to be the break room. A tall man was leaned up against the wall, eating a pastry. He was talking to another man who was about Howard's height, but they stopped their conversation once they saw us. The shorter man ducked out of the room, not making eye contact with either of us. Peggy audibly sighed.

"Edwin, I thought Daniel was in LA," she said quietly to the man before us.

"He flew back once they heard Ms. Underwood had escaped."

"It's Dottie?" Peggy suddenly looked quite concerned. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"You said you had dinner!" Edwin retorted. He hadn't seen me yet. "I didn't want to bother you."

"I do appreciate it, really, but do you know how many lives are in danger? You dealt with her too!"

"Yes, yes I do-"

"Edwin, will you show Josephine around? I just really need to get to work," Peggy rapped her fingers on her leg, clearly stressed. "Oh Edwin, meet Josephine, Josephine, meet Edwin Jarvis."

"Hi." We both said to each other, rather awkwardly. Once Peggy left, Edwin decided to speak.

"So what's your relationship to Peggy?"

"She's my mum."

"Oh," Edwin raised his eyebrows, "That's… interesting."

"Lots of time-travel stuff happened that even I don't understand," I laughed uncomfortably. He frowned.

"So you're the daughter they lost, then?" Edwin then added, "I don't want to hit any sensitive spots, so I'm sorry if I have."

"No, don't apologize, I'm just glad to be here. I am, though, the daughter they lost..." I sighed, "My whole life doesn't make sense to me. Can we just start the tour?"

"Of course."

Edwin explained to me how this office was formerly for a secret association known as the SSR, but with the pardoning of Howard Stark, Stark and my mother formed SHIELD. He then showed me every part of the office. It was a boring office, but his stories about cases they dealt with were especially interesting. Right after the war they had to deal with Russian assassins, Edwin explained. He also told me that my mother was the one to defeat them.

When we came back around to Peggy and Howard, the two were aggressively arguing and trying to devise a plan. Peggy seemed especially annoyed with Howard, who had ideas that contradicted her own.

"Howard, we have to take action immediately! I'd go after Dottie myself if I could, but seeing my predicament, we're going to need to send in the best agents we have. I don't even know who that would be!"

"Peggy, we don't need to worry too much about it. Just send in the FBI."

"If SHIELD isn't able to contain her, do you think the FBI will?"

"Of course they can! They protect the President, for goodness sake!"

Peggy put a hand on her face in extreme annoyance. She saw Jarvis and me and her relief was all too evident. But before she could say anything, she was pushed away from us. I heard a very loud "I'm so sorry!" over the loud conversations of SHIELD authorities. Edwin looked down at me with a sigh.

"Your mother's a very important and strong woman, I hope you know how much I admire her. She's been a dear friend for years now."

I smiled, "That's good to hear. I just hope she won't get consumed by work."

Edwin sighed, "Sometimes she will. Everyone does, really. It's unavoidable. I've been away from my wife, Ana, far too long too many times."

I didn't say anything and regretted my silence almost immediately.

"Do you want me to drive you home, Josephine?"

"Sure, Mr. Jarvis. Thank you."


	5. Chapter Five

**Finally got to updating! The chapter's relatively short but we're nearing some big drama. I hope to be working on this more consistently because I noticed how many favorites/followers this has gained and I'm so thankful to everyone who's supported me in writing this. Jo's character should start to really shine through, now that she's more comfortable in her surroundings. But don't worry, I won't let her get too comfy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Steggy, or Marvel, and I cannot guarantee that everything I write in this fic will hold up by the end of 2020. The only thing I own is Jo and her story :)**

Peggy didn't come home that night. She called up the house telling Steve and I that she'd return in the morning. The next day, nothing. There was nothing from her for a good week. Jarvis told us she'd left around five in the morning of the day she'd say she'd return. No one had seen her since. Director Peggy Carter was officially deemed missing.

Steve had Jarvis take me to SHIELD headquarters every morning. There, they let me read as much as I wanted (as long as I stayed out of the main office area). The reason I stayed was for the food, though. For days, no one bothered me. It wasn't until it had been a week since Peggy's disappearance that anyone in the office said anything that wasn't hello to me.

I hadn't met Agent Thompson until he spoke to me that day.

"Jo Carter?" the tall blond man took a seat across from me. I didn't correct him- I didn't speak at all. I simply looked up from my book and glared at him.

"I'm Agent Thompson," he said. "We're going to need your help soon. You think you could shoot a gun?"

Shit. I hadn't shot a gun since that day with the Avengers. For the most part, I'd managed to isolate my guilt. I didn't need any reminders of the guilt from my kill. I'd been so distracted I wasn't able to really… think about it. But now…

Thompson was looking at me, a little frustrated with my refusal of an answer. "Can you answer me? You look a little flushed."

I gave him a hesitant nod. "I can shoot a gun."

He grinned, "Good to hear. We're gonna train you to be an agent for us, we think that's what Peggy would've wanted."

Peggy had only been missing for a week- why did he speak of her as if she were dead?

"An agent?" I frowned, "I'm much more useful in intelligence, Mr. Thompson."

He shrugged, "Agents can be in intelligence too, look at your mom. Besides, you're a part super soldier and that means you're physically capable of things most probably couldn't achieve."

Maybe he was right. Maybe killing someone on my first try was no coincidence. But I didn't want to simply be known as the super-soldier girl. I wanted to be known for my brain, not brawn.

I nodded, "Okay, Mr. Thompson. Let me know when training will-"

Jarvis came rushing into the room where Thompson and I sat. He seemed out of breath, little emotion on his face.

"Josephine?" He paused, "Your mother's returned."

Excitement. Fear. Happiness? I don't know. I was overcome with emotion. Maybe I could get to know her a hell of a lot better. I barely knew her, if I'm honest. Peggy Carter and I had shared far too few conversations.

I got up quickly and followed Jarvis to the center of the office, where seemingly everyone was gathered around my mother's desk. There sat my mother, looking exhausted. There were scrapes on Peggy's face, dirtied with blood and sweat. Her previously nice business-worthy outfit was torn. She looked ragged compared to the woman I had seen a week ago. It was hard to believe that this was the same person.

"Where did they take you, Pegs?"

"I- it-" Peggy could not get the words out for the life of her. The men surrounding her were in various states of frustration. "They took me to a basement… and they… they…"

"They what? You can tell us, Peggy, no one will get you here."

"Dottie Underwood, she tortured the information out of me…" she looked down. "She knows about Jo."

"What about Jo?" Howard asked.

"The Russians are hunting down Jo because she's… you know."

"What?" Howard frowned.

"Howard," Peggy snapped, "I'd care not to discuss this here."

I didn't know what exactly they were talking about. Was it my time situation? Or perhaps the fact that Steve was my father…? Either way, my odds weren't looking good.

"Alright Peggy, let's get you home. Jarvis!"

"Here, sir," Edwin said, inching his way through the crowd of workers. "Miss Carter, Josephine is here too. Shall I take you both?"

"Yes, go pull the car around," Howard answered for Peggy, not even giving her a chance to object.

The trip to the car was a blur. The office was set amuck, some workers running around frantically to get back to their work while others were busy on my mother's case. There was a general feeling of unease as Edwin escorted Peggy and me down to the street. I wasn't comfortable being such an object of attention, nearly everyone stopping us on our way down to give us their thoughts and prayers. Peggy always quickly thanked them and then dismissed their brief exchange entirely. I wasn't all too comfortable with being stopped by strangers; thankfully we kept a steady pace on our way out despite the constant interruptions.

Jarvis pulled up in a black, classic looking car. The perfect getaway for a Stark.

Peggy and I sat in the back while Jarvis drove, keeping his eyes on the road.

"It's been a hard week, hasn't it?" Edwin said with a sigh at the end. "Mr. Stark has missed you, Miss Carter."

"The Russians… they're…" Peggy completely ignored what Jarvis was saying, mind set on the bigger issue at present. I respected her for that, if I'm perfectly honest, "aggressive."

"Aggressive?" I scoffed, a little surprised Peggy would label them as that tame when more harsh words could easily be used. I knew enough about Russians just based off history class. They were scary. "From what I've heard they're terrifying."

Peggy shook her head, "I wouldn't say terrifying, at least not from my perspective. An assassin I dealt with was more of a pain in the ass than anything." Jarvis gave her a look- almost like he was shocked that Peggy would ever cuss in front of her child. Not that I cared about cussing, but I knew the time and place. Peggy quickly shot Jarvis back a look that made it clear that she didn't give a shit.

"Well, damn…" I mumbled, loud enough so only I could hear. I crossed my arms, feeling a bit uncomfortable. The whole situation was awful unnerving.

Peggy let out a deep reath- "Jo, there's something you need to know." She hesitated before continuing, "Not to make you nervous, but the Russians want you."

All I could do was answer in sarcastic disbelief, "Well, that's just great- but just why would they want a nerdy girl from 72 years in the future? It doesn't add up." My defense mechanism was likely to terribly fail.

Peggy looked me straight in the eyes, annoyance obvious with just that one look. "You do realize you have super soldier genetics, right?"

"I beg your pardon?"

She explained it so casually. "Your father's DNA passed down to you. He's the super soldier, which makes you half. Goodness, Jo, i thought you were smart enought to realize that."

I scoffed, almost offended by my mother's disappointment. "Well, forgive me for not being the brightest one in the car." I sat back, utterly annoyed. God, was there already family bickering? None of this had ever ensued with my foster parents… but for Carolyn and Stephanie. Damn, I'd already forgotten about them. Strange how your life can change so quickly in only a matter of time. I pursed my lips, trying to think of something to say to break the tense silence.

Nothing came to mind.


	6. Chapter Six

**I managed to write this next chapter fairly quickly, and I'm happy with how it turned out. We're nearing the end for real, now- only one or two chapters left, but I'll make you wait a week or so for those. Major plot advancements coming this chapter!**

The smoky barbeque smell drifted in through the windows. Steve was outside, cooking some chicken. Peggy and I were setting the table, chatting as we did so. This would be just a nice, casual family dinner. But Peggy didn't make it so immediately, after all, we did have some business to discuss. It was less business and more the matter of my safety, but in such a situation the two were one and the same.

"Josephine, we need to keep you safe here. You can't visit the office anymore."

"Mum, what was that you and Howard were talking about me today?"

She shifted through the silverware. "That's none of your business."

"Well you mentioned me, so obviously it is." I laid out placemats.

"Howard thinks they would've attempted to steal you as a child. That's what I feared for years, anyway- after you disappeared. But you somehow made it to the 21st century, and Howard thinks that one of us should take the technology that you used to get here to take you there. I told him no, definitely. You just arrived."

"But how will I get there? If history doesn't go through properly, won't this whole timeline be screwed- erm, excuse my language- up?" Hadn't meant to 'cuss.' Oops.

"Well how do we know someone from Russia didn't already deliver you to the future?"

"They would've trained me there, then- better technology, better technique. I'm not at all trained, so we can rule that out. Mum, someone needs to do it-"

Peggy answered surely, but blandly- "No, I don't want anyone getting trapped."

"Alright," was all I said as an answer.

Steve came inside and put down the plate with the chicken in the center of the table. Peggy took baked potatoes from the oven. I waited till the oven was closed and, as if on cue, took the canned green beans that were cooking off the stove. We all took our share of food, plating quickly and getting to eating all too soon. I think we were all extremely hungry, as there was no hesitation to begin eating. I took a bite of my father's chicken- the savory yet spicy barbeque sauce the perfect compliment to it.

"So the super soldier can cook too," I teased with a grin. Steve looked up from his plate, and gave me a pleased smile. I carefully looked over to Peggy, careful not to mess with her. She seemed to get so engulfed in her work and the situation with the Russians. The three of us all ate for a minute or two, before Peggy finally broke the silence.

"I think we should enroll Jo in school, shouldn't we?"

I couldn't help but smile, despite how weird Peggy had been earlier. I liked the sound of that. Maybe at this school I would find that I made friends easily. I wasn't an unpleasant person, just a bit… sharp-tongued, and my reputation tended to precede me.

"I haven't had much luck in American schools, before all this," I admitted, despite my common sense. "Believe it or not, teenagers in the future can be extremely…" I pondered the word, "nasty."

Steve, who was about to eat some beans, put his fork down and frowned. "Are you alright?"

I shook my head, "No, I'm fine. Bitches get stitches, right?" I immediately regretted saying that. Steve and Peggy both stifled a laugh.

"Language," corrected Steve, his face suddenly drained of the humor which had been there mere seconds before. He then took a bite of his chicken before continuing. "Honestly, though, if you have anything you struggled with social-wise, let your mother and I know. We both have a lot of experience."

My eyes wandered down to my plate, and I poked my chicken with my fork before switching my fork to my left hand and cutting off a piece with a butter knife in my right. "I'm fine, thank you." My voice was soft, nearly undetectable nerves underlying. No one pressed the topic further.

The entire meal was… awkward, to say the least. Occasional chip ins from my parents weren't unwelcome, but not a single one of us managed to pull the conversation out of the dumps. We finished eating. I cleaned the plates in silence, my parents in the other room watching a program on TV. It was a rotating responsibility, and tonight was my night do so.

As I washed off every dish, my mind struggled to wrap around what my mother had proposed before dinner. That someone go back in time using the technology I brought to bring me back to the future. Only Steve and I understood the technology, while I was sure Howard could figure it out, I realized they'd need to send one of the two of us. That was why my mother was so opposed. But it needed to happen… suddenly everything came into perspective.

I needed to save myself. My entire life (and I was sure even the lives of others) depended on it. We couldn't allow the Russians to get a hold on my genetics. There was really no rush to do it, but with the idea in my brain I decided to do what would seem so unsensible to anyone else. I would gather all I could about my birth, form a plan, and leave in the night. In the heat of the moment, it made perfect sense. Neither one of my parents would know I'd left- I'd leave and be back a second later. It was all up to me.

Once I'd finished my cleaning, I headed into my mother's home office. Both of my parents were still on the couch, and once I was inside I heard some laughter, and then some unmentionable noises. They were clearly having a good time. As gross as that was, it made my timing absolutely perfect. I shuffled through my mother's drawers, searching ruthlessly for my birth certificate.

Papers upon papers, thoroughly organized in files in drawers. I looked on the labels, before finding what Peggy labeled as her "family" drawer. Finally, my hands were on it…

I scanned the paper quickly. April 15, 1952, 10:09 pm. Perfect.

I wrote down the day, time, and hospital on a scrap of paper, before sliding the certificate back into its proper folder. I turned off the light in the room as I left, making my way to the room in which I stayed. My room, technically, but it still didn't feel like it. I set the paper down on my desk, and sat down on my bed.

Over these first few weeks, I'd begun to write in a diary. I didn't write too much per entry, but it would be the perfect place to begin plotting how I would pull off stealing myself. An odd statement, sure, but a necessary one.

Dear Diary,

Today is October 5th, 1953. I'm sitting in my new bed, thinking about how I'm about to time travel 72 years into the future and seriously help everyone out...

I don't think I've been this scared in ages. Time travel's messy, so my chances of messing up are pretty high. But the payoff will be worth it, and I know I'm careful.

Okay, so here goes my plan. I need to write out what I have in mind first, then decide how insane it is on a scale from one to ten. Alright.

First off, I'll leave outside. I don't know why, but I feel like that will be safer. I don't want to burn a hole in the roof. Once I arrive in the future I'll pre-punch in the 2010 date and wait before I'll carefully take myself. Before baby-me can start crying, I'll transport us to the future, and leave myself on a doorstep of a home in London. From there time should be able to roll out and I should be able to go back to 1953, where I'll hurry back to bed.

Right, that sounds good. Wish me luck.

And Mum, Dad, if I don't make it and you find this, despite how little I've known you two, I love you so much. No, I mustn't talk so… apocalyptically. That's not the best word, but whatever. I've got work to do, right? Right.

Okay, well, goodnight. Wish me luck.

\- Jo

I put down my journal and took a deep breath, staring off at nothing in particular. Shit. What was I getting myself into?

* * *

Two hours later, I was suited up. My hair was crammed into a messy ponytail under the helmet of the suit, one I hadn't taken much care in making. I stared in the mirror for a moment and took a deep breath. If all was to go as planned, I'd be back here in half an hour, my time. I didn't even know why I was so worried, but part of me remembered what Steve Rogers had said happened to Natasha Romanoff (the Black Widow)- how she ended up having to die during time traveling and never returned. That stuck with me, even though I would certainly not be in a similar situation. I wasn't even going to have to deal with enemies, given that Peggy Carter didn't catch me stealing myself and go ballistic.

Right. Okay. Setting time for 1 am on April 16th, location: the hospital. I squinted down and punched in the numbers. I then left my diary on my made bed, and carefully headed outside through my window. My eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness. Whifts of barbeque from earlier that night made me smile softly, chirps of crickets echoing endlessly through my ears. I walked into the empty street, keeping an eye on my house. I wanted to make sure Steve wouldn't run out yelling at me.

So far, so good. I closed my eyes and pressed the button.

1952\. I was right where I needed to be, right outside the newborn babies. There was a nurse inside, while I waited for her to exit I punched in my next set of coordinates. Once she'd left, I found the baby girl with Josephine Carter-Rogers on the tag almost immediately. Found her. Me. Whatever, try not to think of it that way. This is fine. I carefully picked up the bundle, and almost immediately baby-me started to cry. Great, just great…

"Shh… baby me, be quiet…" With her whining, I felt so rushed, and struggled to find the button to go. "Shut up…" I muttered. There was a solid minute of me scrolling through the interface, terrified that I might be seen. Thanfkully, the nurse remained out of sight. There! I finally pressed the button, my baby-self firm in my arms.

I managed to catch my breath, suddenly readjusting to my new surroundings. I looked down to the interface and switched to my street clothes. Here I was. London, circa 2010. As close to my past as I could get. It was cloudy, roughly 5 am, and the streets already busy. Holding baby Jo close, I walked up to the building which handled foster care. And suddenly, everything sank in. I'd done it. I'd saved myself from the Russians. It wasn't too soon to say that. Right near the door, I set the baby down in her blanket, and slipped a piece of paper which I'd written on earlier on top of her.

Help her, It read. Her name is Josephine Rogers. She was born a few hours ago and I am unable to care for her. Thank you, and God bless.

The piece of paper I had memorized so well as a child- my own doing, handwriting to the exact. Strange that I'd never put two and two together. I took a final look at the child and smiled, so wide. I walked away, careful to make sure no one had noticed me. Once far enough away, I did an uncalled for happy dance. I kept going until I reached a fairly quiet alleyway, and changed back into the suit.

"Goodbye, 2010. Hope to see you again some day."


	7. The Final Chapter

November 13, 1969. My objection was to assassinate an American named James Rogers. I was on the Staten Island Ferry, trying not to catch anyone's attention. I kept an eye on my watch, It was around 8 in the morning and the ferry didn't have too many people on it. The occasional homeless person and a few tourists.

I hummed softly to a soft tune, a melody I couldn't quite remember. Occasional remembered words would serve as lyrics. _You say yes… mmmm… You say stop, mmmm… You say goodbye… and I say go go go… _I wasn't allowed to sing through most of my training at the Red Room. Not that I was ever big on singing. Well, who knows what I was like before the Red Room. Maybe I wanted to be on Broadway. I smiled a little at that unrealistic thought.

The Statue of Liberty stood tall, looking over Manhattan, though up close, and compared to the growing skyscrapers of New York it didn't seem so big. We passed it, and the few tourists that groveled at its base looked like ants. But I reminded myself- I wasn't American. I wasn't Russian, either, though I knew the language and many of its people inside and out. I was British, and even now I retained the accent (partially as my cover). I had no right to call Lady Liberty my own, though somewhere, deep down, I wanted to. I sighed and pushed my one red-dyed curl of hair behind my ear.

I spent the majority of the voyage lost in my own thoughts and strategic planning. Target was fifteen years old and lived in a one-story house. Two parents, one worked and the other seemed to stay at home all the time, which could make things difficult. I'd have to figure out where his room was, break-in from there, kill him, and flee. Perhaps I could use a larger gun, shoot him dead from the street. I had a great shot, after all. But I settled on going in and using a close-range pistol- one I had in my bag. Better to be sure that the job's done, double-tap. It was too late for a decision to use a different gun anyway.

The ferry came to a stop, and I navigated the streets with ease. There was an oddly familiar feel to the streets as I strolled around them. I looked for a very certain house, one I'd seen photographs of. There was a weird feeling of deja vu as I parked my bike right outside of the backyard and scaled the fence, before landing on my two feet inside the backyard. It was grass, with a little porch area with a barbecue and seating. I avoided the glass patio door and found my way to the side of the house.

The owner of the windowed bedroom was all too obvious. Pictures of beautiful actresses seemed to cover his wall, with occasional record posters. And there sat a young brunette boy at a desk, reading a "sports" magazine. He was very muscular- the shirt he wore flattered him very well in that way. I couldn't see his face, but from his body, I could tell that he was probably one of the most agreeable kids at his school. _I shouldn't break the glass, not with him here like this… _

I had to find a different plan. I sat down in the little grassy area below his window and thought things out. I could go through the front door. I was pretty enough to where I could seduce him. If that "sports" magazine was what I thought it was, he wouldn't be able to resist. Then I could kiss him, and mid-kiss plunge a pocket knife into his back. Or look like I was running my fingers through his hair and snap his neck. I liked the second one. So I approached the front door and rang the doorbell.

It was the boy who answered. I had guessed right, he had a handsome face. And even better were his eyes, such an engrossing color- similar to mine, which were almost a mix of brown and blue yet so… brilliant, more like a hazel that was on the blue side, if that was possible.

"Can I help you?" The boy said, in a very pleasant voice. He had such a smooth, sweet-sounding American accent. He raised an eyebrow, looking me up and down.

"I'm looking for a Mr. James Rogers?" I said, using my natural British accent instead of a Southern accent (which my training suggested was best to charm boys, but why wouldn't a boy like my British accent?) He sighed.

"That would be me."

"I'm here about the, erm, homework, help?" I raised an eyebrow, "I heard you were failing history?"

James blinked twice, looking like he almost couldn't believe it. "I'm sorry, do I know you…?

"I don't believe so, why?"

"Holy shit- you're Josephine! Josephine Carter-Rogers."

"Do, erm, explain what you mean," I was utterly confused. Though it sounded familiar, Josephine wasn't my name. I had a Russian name. Unless… that could've been my name before the brainwash. Rogers… James was a Rogers too. Dear lord. My plans of seduction weren't sounding so bright now.

"I had a sister. Josephine Carter-Rogers. But she… went missing right before I was born, in '54. She was born in 1952."

"I'm afraid you are mistaken, I'm thirty-one years old for goodness sake!"

"That's how old my parents said she would be. My sister in the picture," He pointed to their fireplace mantel in the next room.

I eyed the mantle cautiously, spotting a family photo set on it. It was too far to be easily seen. I then looked back to James, flashing between him and the mantle, "I'm just here to tutor you- if you don't want my help…" The kiss idea seemed to be logical, now. Kill him right then and there.

"Mom, Dad, come here!" James turned and yelled, before looking at me, face unsure of what emotion to display. Shit. Plan ruined before started.

"Josephine?" A woman in her late forties quickly walked to the front door. She was British, with brown hair and deep brown eyes. Fuck- I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I recognized her from somewhere. Was she in SHIELD…?

"Erm- I'm afraid I'm not-"

"My god, you are Josephine!" the woman then looked relieved. "It's been years since I've heard your voice!"

I was caught off-guard- I stuttered in response, "Well, not necessarily mine. I'm afraid I'm not a 'Josephine' or even a Rogers. I just came regarding your son-"

"You really don't remember?" There was almost pain in her eyes as she looked at me. For a moment, speaking with her was somewhat reminiscent of… something. "Steve, come here…"

An athletic man approached the door. Despite the fact that he wasn't young, he was extremely muscular and tall. "Peggy, what do you need?" His voice. I could have sworn I'd heard it somewhere. He scanned me, up and down, before giving an unsure smile, "Jo!"

"I'm so sorry but my name isn't Josephine- why do you all keep insisting on it? I'm afraid you are mistaken-"

"Than how can you explain this photograph?" the man quickly grabbed the photo off the mantle and handed it to me. "This was a picture taken of me, my wife, and my daughter Josephine in 1953. You're saying that this isn't you?"

I stared at the photograph, unsure of how a teenage me could have been standing with this exact family at that exact time. In 1953, according to the records, I was beginning my training in the Widow Program. There was no possible way that this could be my family. In fact, the entire picture was impossible! I simply frowned and looked back up at the man.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I was overseas in 1953. You've got the wrong woman."

Peggy sighed and took the photo from me. "Alright, if you insist. Don't press it, Steve."

Steve looked at Peggy, before saying to me. "Well, alright. What's your name and what do you have to say to James?"

"Lydia Martin and I'm here about James' grade in history." Not my best cover name, but it would function.

"Alright, are you going to tutor him? Please, come inside. Sorry to keep you standing, I know its a bit chilly."

"No, don't worry about me, I'm alright. And thank you."

I noticed I'd forgotten to take off my leather jacket at that very moment. I wasn't the most respectable looking teacher, but hopefully, the target wouldn't care. Part of me felt bad for continuing to pursue the target, even after the parent's obvious missing daughter, but I remembered that killing him would do our program well. I was an assassin for a reason and a good one at that. I had to put emotions aside and focus on my job.

"Are you from England too?" asked Peggy as we entered the house.

"I am. Just moved over here a few years ago."

James led me to his room, and I stepped inside after him, shutting the door. The room seemed familiar (God, I was having so much Deja Vu!), I sat down on his bed and let him take a seat down at his desk.

"So your school told me that you're failing history."

"Yeah, we're learning about World War II right now."

"You know that wasn't too long ago. I was alive during the war, but I was really young." Not that I remembered it. Nevertheless, I smiled and brushed back my hair. "I can tell you about it if you like."

"Yeah, I'd… like that," James' eyes wandered down to my chest. Great, not the most comfortable situation, but it'd work to my advantage. Seduction was the easy part, even if I was fifteen or so years older.

"So… they sent off all eligible men to war. And women worked behind the scenes."

"Yeah, I know that- but what was it like as a kid?"

"It was… stressful. My father was sent off to war."

"Really?" James' brow furrowed.

"Yes, it was a frightening time."

There was silence. James grew close to me, and we both looked as if we were pondering kissing the other. I leaned in, one hand clenched to the gun hidden inside my jacket, and kissed him. The moment seemed to be an eternity, but I finally pulled away and the boy, stuck in the amazement from the kiss, was unaware that I had the gun pointed at his chest. I pulled the trigger. There was a loud bang, and James collapsed against the wall. I'd done it. Target? Killed. I quickly fired gunshots at the window, glass breaking, and moved towards it, punching the glass away. I then tucked away my gun. But right before I could jump out of it, the door swung open and both Rogers parents were at the ready.

Steve ran to James' side, but Peggy stood at the door, pistol aimed directly at me. In her other hand, she held a leather-bound book of some sort.

"Who are you, really?"

I sucked in some air- "Ever heard of the Widow Program?"

Peggy's eyes went wide- she held the pistol less confidently, hands shaking. "What is your name?" It was less of a question and more of an order."

"I told you. I'm with the Red Room. Ever heard of it?"

"And I'm Margaret Carter, head of SHIELD- ever heard of me?"

My hands were in the air, and I was at the enemy's mercy. But why had I never known who the head of SHIELD was? Her name did sound so familiar, but I clearly never had attached it to SHIELD. She wasn't lying, though- I knew that much. I made eye contact with her and prayed, to whatever God there was- _Please don't let this be the end. Have mercy._

I shut my eyes. "I was assigned to kill your son. It isn't personal."

"But it clearly is! They knew- they completely knew that you looked like my lost daughter, my lost-" Something certainly was registering within Peggy. "Sorry, you're with the Widow Program? Of the Red Room?" I nodded, and Peggy slowly lowered her gun. I was confused as to why, but Peggy showed no hints. Steve gave her a funny look, but Peggy kept her gun lowered. She tossed me the book, and I caught it.

"Go before I change my mind."

I stood there for a moment, confused as to why she didn't shoot. I had the book in my hands and didn't know what to do. "Why?" I asked breathlessly.

"You heard me," her voice was stern, and she made her way to her dying son. "Get on with it."

I bit my lip and nodded. I dove through and landed on the ground, ending with a somersault. I looked back to Peggy. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she stared at me as if I were a ghost. _Go._

I ran for my life. I could hear sirens in the distance. I hopped on my bike and threw on the helmet. My foot meddled with the gas for a moment before I shot off, trying to gain as far of a distance to the house as possible. I took in a breath. That had been strange. I drove as far as I could, before taking a stop at a diner. I parked my bike, setting the helmet down.

I got myself a table in the diner and ordered a tea. Once the waitress was gone, I opened up the book that Peggy had given me to begin reading. The Red Room would've hated me if they knew I did, but I did it anyway.

_Dear Diary,_

_My name is Josephine Carter-Rogers. I'm fifteen years old, and I've been through more shit than most. I was born in 1952 but somehow wound up being raised by a multitude of foster parents in the UK in the 2010s until 2025 when I came to America and met the Avengers. _

_The Avengers were a lovely group of people, men and women with superpowers teamed to save the world. Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch, brought me to them. She was a nice person, and extremely powerful. Carol Danvers and I had a nice acquaintance, though. I really admired her. I didn't exactly know her powers, but she was the sheer definition of a strong woman. And then I met Bucky Barnes, who claimed to know both of my real parents personally. He told me that there was a way for me to go back in time and be with my parents. It seemed like a stretch- but it was successful. And here I am in Staten Island. It worked. I couldn't believe it._

_I met both my parents for the first time today- Agent Peggy Carter and Captain Steve Rogers- future head of SHIELD and Captain America himself. Two of the most amazing people to ever exist, according to Bucky. Although things had been strange at first, I was so overwhelmed with emotion tonight. They'd welcomed me with open arms. _

_I've been crying for the last two hours. I don't think they know that. Its roughly midnight and Steve gave me this diary two hours ago for my own use. But once he'd left me- kissed my forehead and said goodnight, I'd burst into tears. I had finally achieved my biggest dream, and that was finding myself a proper family. If you know me, you know I've never had one. I've always felt like a bit of an outsider, yet here I was welcomed and accepted. I finally felt right._

_\- Jo_

I felt like I'd walked midway into this girl's life, but the emotion conveyed by her words hit oddly hard. Before I could move onto the next entry, the waitress brought me my tea, so I thanked her. I took a sip- American tea was never as good- and continued on.

_Dear Diary,_

_Mum has been missing for days. Dad has been so much more stressed lately… I feel like I'm pissing him off whenever I open my mouth, but I know he's just on edge because of Mum's disappearance. Dad has had Jarvis pick me up and take me to the SHIELD offices every day since I came._

_When I'm there, Howard Stark interrogates me like I'm the enemy or something (which I'm not, but I think Steve is thinking the same thing). I need to find some way to prove myself, but maybe a DNA test could be enough. I'm surprised Mr. Stark hasn't already performed one on me, but I understand that everyone has been preoccupied. It's hard to not only be new to the time but also be not fully welcomed- I hope that'll change with time. I almost feel like I'm being blamed for Mum's disappearance, even though my arrival clearly had nothing to do with it!_

_Life's just been so stressful lately. I cannot possibly wait any longer for Mum to return and life to start its routine._

_\- Jo_

The diary entries seemed to start to get smaller- but my strange concern for this lost girl remained. I wasn't aware I could be so concerned, but her diaries conveyed a strange feeling within me.

_Dear Diary,_

_Mum's back. She essentially told me I'm fucked. But to summarize- she was kidnapped by the Russians. They tortured information out of her- the fact that I exist and have enhanced genetics, or what most people might call a "super-soldier." I don't think I knew how to react in the moment. Hearing that someone you love (well, care about. I barely know the women, for goodness' sake) has been tormented is horrifying. In fact, the idea of torture, in general, is horrifying. Dad and I welcomed her back with open arms, and even though we're all a bit stressed, I think my life in the fifties may finally, properly, begin._

_\- Jo_

The Russians… oh no. So Margaret Carter had preexisting ties to the Red Room. Her words back at the Rogers household suddenly became extremely clear, along with what had happened to the girl- we'd gotten her. The program would have either performed experiments and disposed of her or had her killed. Chances are, she was dead. I sighed and shut the diary close as a waitress approached.

"Anything, in particular, ya' wanna order?"

"Do you have any pancakes?"

The waitress nodded.

"Thanks," I said plainly, before smiling softly and looking back down to the diary. I opened it up to the next page-

_Dear Diary,_

_Today is October 5th, 1953. I'm sitting in my new bed, thinking about how I'm about to time travel 72 years into the future and seriously help everyone out... _

_I don't think I've been this scared in ages. Time travel's messy-_

I cannot describe the experience of remembering one's own life for the first time. It's like a jab to the head, a sharp jostle to the mind. Suddenly all you know becomes only a continuation of a childhood you never thought you had. You feel like your head is going to explode.

I remembered everything. From the innocents I'd killed to my training, to the kidnappings, to time travel, the disappearance of Peggy Carter, and my first real meeting with my parents. But most importantly, my childhood, and fond memories of the twenty-first century. Guilt flooded into my brain, and I was reminded of an entirely different persona.

There was no feasible way for Josephine Carter-Rogers to be back. I quickly remembered that. Things or little reminders of my past triggered the memories. I'd tried to go for a week, once, remembering who I was. I lasted a day. And when I couldn't go on any longer, I rushed back to the Red Room to forget again, do the same program over and be brainwashed once more. But still, forgetting could only do so much. It only provided temporary relief to my guilt.

I noticed a single tear streaming down my cheek, which I quickly wiped away. I took a final sip of my tea but didn't even wait for the pancakes I'd ordered. I left a five on the table and headed out, clutching the diary within my two hands. I couldn't keep this. It… it didn't belong to me. Not anymore. I don't think fifteen-year-old Josephine- the dumb girl who'd been so easily kidnapped by the Red Room- would approve of the owner. Not someone who'd killed her own brother.

I hopped on my bike, doing my best to not cry. Josephine was so much weaker than this… assassin. I don't think I'd be able to live with myself. I started to drive, as quickly as I could, and in time arrived back at the Rogers house. SHIELD agents flocked around the property near James' window. I rode a bit past and pulled off, before parking and trying to quietly walk to the front door, where I laid the diary on the welcoming mat before stepping away. _Josephine, you've fucked up. _I took a final look at the diary before running away again. I couldn't face Mum. Not after all that'd happened. And soon I drove off, hoping to never have to face my past again.

I returned to the association and announced my success. All too quickly, our supervisor had noticed that I was a bit… off. "Are you alright dear?"

"Yes, I…" that was a lie- it was too obvious. I sighed, the reality was that I had to admit my realization, no matter how embarrassing. "I remember."

"Oh," was the supervisor's simple answer. She frowned and wrote something down. "It is time for procedure, no?"

I sighed, a bit aggravated in my embarrassment. "Yes, I suppose it is."

The supervisor crossed her arms. "This will be fifth time-" she sighed, before saying, "You better not be rogue agent."

I laughed softly, despite the seriousness of the situation. I raised an eyebrow and then frowned again.

"I can make no promises."

**Thanks to everyone who stayed with me to the end! I'm sorry the whole thing isn't longer but I had a pretty tight plot to keep and not a lot of time for fun and games. I'm overall really happy with how this came out, even if it took a year of on and off (more off than on) writing to complete.**

**Jo's character has grown and changed a lot over this year and if I'm honest, her rounded version is my best oc ever. I don't think I'll be able to top her. But also, I've grown and changed a lot and that's pretty evident in my writing. Between coming into my first year in high school and the pandemic, so much has changed since I began writing this. I'm hopefully going to write more fanfiction revolving around the Red Room as we near the Black Widow movie, and I'm sure I'll have a fic going once the movie is released! This fic might also become a little outdated and I might have to fix it-**

**Anyway, thanks again for reading, and if you liked this, please review!**


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